


Now Is Not The End

by delle



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: Gen, Post Season 2 Finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-15
Updated: 2016-11-18
Packaged: 2018-08-31 05:19:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8565556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delle/pseuds/delle
Summary: We all know what happened in the finale, what happened next?





	1. Chapter 1

I.  
His arms were full of the soft curves of Peggy Carter, his lips pressed to the slope between her neck and shoulder. He could smell the faint trace of her perfume, something rich and mysterious and very feminine, like the woman that wore it. 

She stirred at his kiss. “What time is it?”

Daniel glanced at the window, seeing the growing dusk between the slats of the blinds. “Somewhere around 5? Sun’s starting to go down.”

“We spent all afternoon in bed? How _decadent_.” He couldn’t see her face, curled up behind her as he was, but he could hear the smile in her voice.

“Complaining, Carter?”

“Not at all. It was a very enjoyable way to spend the day.” She rolled in his arms and kissed him hungrily. His breath caught and lust curled in his stomach. 

Peggy laughed. “Again? I would have thought –“ 

He kissed her into silence, his hands roaming down her body to wrap around her waist and pull her closer. Someone’s stomach rumbled; pressed so close, he wasn’t sure if it was his or hers. When they finally broke apart, he grinned at her. “Actually, I was thinking we might grab some dinner, if you want.”

“I’m ravenous. Let’s –“ 

The phone rang. Daniel rolled over to the grab the receiver from the bedside table, propping himself up on his elbow. 

“Sousa.” Rose’s words poured out, stumbling over each other. “Rose. Rose, slow down. Say again?” He listened and the hot lust sensation drained away, to be replaced by cold dread. “All right, we’re on our way.”

As he replaced the receiver, the bed shifted as Peggy sat up, sheet clutched to her chest. 

“What is it.” Her voice was calm.

“Jack’s been shot.” Daniel reached down to the pile of clothes next to the bed. “We need to get to the hospital.”

 

_Rose stared at the receiver. In the past year, she had certainly had to contact the Chief in the middle of the night and she was accustomed to how he sounded when half asleep. But not at 5pm. ‘We’re on our way’? Despite her worry, she couldn’t help but smile at the phone._


	2. 1A

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In good comics traditon, a variant opening scene!

SCENE OPENS: A dark room. A telephone rings. On the second ring, we hear DANIEL SOUSA’s voice

DANIEL: Sousa. (pause) Rose…. Rose, slow down. Say again?

Behind him, a light comes on. We can see that DANIEL has been sleeping, his hair is mussed, his eyes are only half open and his chest is bare. He continues his conversation.

DANIEL: All right, we’re on our way.

The camera pulls back as DANIEL rolls over, showing us PEGGY CARTER sitting up in bed, sheet pulled up to her chest, shoulders bare. Her hair is down and straight and she is not wearing make up.

They make eye contact.

PEGGY: What is it. (This is not a question) 

DANIEL: Jack’s been shot.

 

Cut to “AGENT CARTER” logo.


	3. Chapter 3

II

It had been a long, hard day and every part of her body ached. Physical therapy was hard on the patient, of course, but was often equally hard on the nurse and today had been one of those days. As Violet walked into the lobby of the hospital, she could see the sun was setting – it set so early in winter, even though it was not even 6pm. She shifted her pocketbook on her aching right shoulder and crossed the lobby; only to spot Daniel Sousa’s familiar form at the reception desk. She felt a small lurch in her stomach – over the past few months she had gotten to know several of Daniel’s agents and had an instinctual hunch that someone she knew was injured, or worse.

She approached the desk and overheard part of the conversation he was having with the receptionist. 

“ – one of my men, in surgery –“

“Daniel?”

He turned, leaning heavily on his crutch. He was surprisingly disheveled; Daniel was usually fastidious about his appearance, but tonight his hair was tumbling over his forehead, his dark eyes heavy-lidded. She noticed his shirt, athough neatly tucked in, was misbuttoned It took only a second for her to realize the source of his dishabille – immediately next to him was Peggy Carter. She felt a twist under her heart – Peggy was neatly dressed in a blouse and pantsuit, but her dark hair was messily pulled back into a pony tail and she wore no makeup, not even her signature lipstick. They both looked as though they had just rolled out of bed.

_It’s none of your business._

“Violet?” It was slightly mollifying to see the guilt flicker across Daniel’s face.

“Is someone hurt? Why are you here?”

He glanced at Peggy and she flicked her eyes off to the side. “Can we talk over here?” Daniel asked and limped away from the desk. Violet followed.

“An SSR agent was shot today,” Daniel began. Something must have crossed her face, because he reached out and touched her arm. “It isn’t anyone you know, but a coworker of mine from New York.”

“He’s the Chief of the New York office,” Peggy added. 

“I’m so sorry,” Violet said. “What happened? Oh, wait, you can’t answer that….”

Daniel shrugged. “We don’t know yet. We need to speak to him first, and no one can tell us what his status is.” Daniel looked worried; Peggy, angry. 

“Why don’t I go see what I can find out for you?”

“Violet, that would be most kind,” Peggy said. 

“Let me show you the surgery waiting room and I’ll go see what I can do.”

 

By the time Violet returned, the waiting room was full of what she presumed were SSR agents. She recognized a few – Johnson and Baker in one corner, Marshall pacing by the door, smoking a cigarette. Peggy and Daniel were in another corner, his back to her; as she approached she could tell Peggy had also noticed Daniel’s shirt being askew. She was just buttoning up the top of his shirt, her fingers resting on his suprasternal notch as Violet came up. Daniel half turned, eyes averted and a slight blush on his face as he hurriedly tucked his shirt back in. 

_Good, Violet, keep it clinical, keep it unemotional._

She pretended not to notice. “He’s still in surgery, but he’s holding his own right now. The bullet entered the upper right quadrant, so the right lung is deflated, but they have him on oxygen and are repairing the damage as best they can. He’ll be intubated and sedated for the next several hours post surgery, to be sure he can breathe without difficulty. You won’t be able to speak to him tonight for sure; it may be several days before he can speak, depending on his condition when he comes out of surgery. You both may as well go home for tonight.”

Daniel and Peggy exchanged inscrutable glances. “I think we’ll stay for a while,” Daniel said. “And I will want to station an SSR agent at his room at all times.”

“Really, Daniel, that seems a little extreme. He’s in the hospital, after all.”

He shook his head and she realized she had blundered into that ‘this cannot be discussed territory’. “Is there someone in the hospital hierarchy that I need to speak to about setting a guard?”

“I… “ she realized she was completely out of her depth. “I have no idea.”

“You’ve been more than helpful, Violet,” Peggy interjected. “We’ll sort it all out. Thank you for doing all this.”

Violet smiled slightly. “Of course.” She watched the two of them communicate silently; impulsively she said, “Can I talk to you for a minute, Peggy?” Daniel turned to look at her. “Privately?”

She could read Daniel’s thoughts in his face. For a spy, she thought, he was a terrible liar. But he nodded and limped away to talk to the gathered agents on the other side of the room.

Peggy looked very uncomfortable. “Violet, I never had a chance to apologize. I never intended to muck up your life…”

“Honestly, Peggy, you need to stop beating yourself up about this.” Violet took a deep breath and surged on. “We would have been happy, I really believe that. We would have gotten married, and had children, and lived our lives…. And somewhere, in the deepest part of his heart and in the back of his mind, he would have wished I were you. I deserve better than that. I deserve a man that loves me for me, not because I am second-best.”

Surprisingly, Peggy appeared emotional, she reached over and touched Violet’s hand gently. “You do, Violet. You are a terrific woman. I can’t thank you enough for what you did for me, the night I was injured. I really do want the very best for you.” 

They both looked over at Daniel. He glanced back at them and worry crossed his face. He combed his hair out of his eyes and both women smiled at each other.

“He’s concerned what we’re saying,” Peggy said, her eyes soft as she looked at Daniel. She looked surprisingly young and vulnerable.

“Take good care of him, Peggy,” Violet said softly. “I know you are a super-secret agent and could wipe the floor with me, but if you hurt him, you will have to answer to me.”


	4. Chapter 4

III  
Peggy felt a small regret as she watched Violet walk away. She had a sense that she and Violet could have been friends, much like her friendship with Angie, and Peggy missed having a girlfriend to confide in. She really would have to talk to Howard about flying Angie out to LA. 

She turned and observed the men across the room. Command looked good on Daniel, she thought: he stood tall and confidence radiated off him as he instructed his surrounding agents. The quiet and shy man with the sweater vests and hunched shoulders had transformed into a self-assured SSR Chief. 

Daniel gave her a quick inquiring look as she joined the group; she responded with a short nod and he continued his orders.

“ I want two men – Baker, you and Robinson - over at the Ambassador Hotel. Coordinate with the LA dicks – I assume they’ll still be on site – but go over that room with a fine tooth comb. I want Thompson’s luggage in the labs by tomorrow morning, first thing. Marshall, I want you to coordinate guards at Chief Thompson’s door. 24 hrs a day, that door is never left unattended. No one gets in without approval.” He glanced over at Peggy. “The door guards are our line of defense for Chief Thompson. Agent Carter and I will alternate being in the room with the Chief – our job is to wait until he wakes up so we can talk to him before the LA cops. Marshall, start figuring out who you will need immediately. The rest of you need to go home and sleep, this case is top priority and we will be working on it day and night. Get your rest when you can.”

With a short nod to Marshall, Daniel stepped aside to a row of chairs and carefully sat down. Peggy sat next to him. 

“That was nicely done, Daniel,” she said.

He shrugged. “Well, I can’t send Marshall down to the hotel, LA cops don’t do well with colored agents. I can rely on him for managing coverage here.”

_“Do you have any idea how deep the rot goes in the SSR?_ ,” Peggy murmured.

“What?”

“Something Dottie said to me, as we were escaping Whitney’s trap. How deep the rot goes in the SSR. How much do you trust these men?”

“Why do you think you and I are going to be stationed in Jack’s room?” Daniel shook his head. “I hired these men – I also hired Vega, Blackwell, Hardy and Nance. I thought they were trustworthy. I don’t know that you can rely on my judgement.”

“Daniel.” She allowed an edge of scolding in her tone. “Hydra agents are very good at disguising themselves. Stop apologizing for being human, and imperfect.”

He gave her a lopsided grin. “This early in a relationship and already the honeymoon is over. I’m no longer perfect.”

She nudged him with her shoulder. “How are you proposing to guard Jack and still run your bureau, Chief?”

He shrugged. “Not sure yet. I want to have your eyes on everything too. Team, right? But there’s no one else I can trust to guard Jack.”

“You can trust Rose.” He nodded, and waited as she thought things through. “You should be in the office during most of the day, to direct and monitor the investigation. I can take the morning shift with Jack. Late afternoon, we switch? I can go to the office for a few hours, you take over for Jack. Rose can cover a few hours in the night, so we can meet up at your house, compare notes and then get some sleep.”


	5. IV

IV

 

It was the weirdest dream Jack had ever had. There were women there, several women, and most of them strangers to him. Carter was there, too, and Sousa; and the red headed receptionist from Sousa’s office. A murmur of voices, words indistinct, and constant mechanical beeps, although he wasn’t sure what kind of machines were there, out of his eyesight. Not plane engines: three years in the South Pacific had educated him on every possible variation of plane noise. And beneath it all, seeping into his nose, into his skin, around and over him, was the scent of disinfectant. 

He wasn’t sure, even now, if he was awake or asleep. He was lying on his back, staring at the yellowing paint above him. He blinked his eyes and counted the ceiling squares over him. Blinked and counted again. There was a muffed noise off to his left: slowly, carefully so as to prevent the room from spinning, he turned his head.

And blinked again. He had to be dreaming still. 

A man was sitting on the only chair in his room – _shit, this is a hospital room_ , he realized belatedly – and a woman, her back to Jack, was straddling him. Her skirt was hiked up enough that he could see the top of her stockings… and a gun holster. 

Carter.

And the man… while Jack couldn’t see him, it had to be Sousa as the ever-present aluminum crutch was leaning against the arm of the chair. His hands were on Carter’s waist, fingers flexing against the blue of her dress. Where Carter’s hands were, he couldn’t see and didn’t want to know.

_I’m either dead or dreaming._

Except that Carter was now scrambling off Sousa’s lap and both of them were looking at him in shock. 

“Damn, I said that out loud, didn’t I?” To his own ears, his voice was creaky and gravelly. 

“Jack!” Carter was saying even as Sousa said “About damn time you woke up.”

He wanted to speak, but began to cough and pain overwhelmed him. He closed his eyes and struggled to breathe; his chest was on fire. A strong arm behind his back and he was carefully lifted into a half-sitting position. There was pressure on his chest that, oddly, seemed to help slow and control the cough. When he could finally take a breath, he opened his eyes to find Sousa holding him up, offering him a glass of water, and Carter sitting on the other side, pressing a pillow to his chest. 

“Slow,” Sousa said, as Jack reached for the cup. “Drink it too fast and you’ll just start coughing again.”

Jack nodded and took three careful sips. 

“Better?” Carter asked. 

Jack nodded again, not trusting his voice.

Carter raised the head of his bed up slightly and Sousa helped Jack lay back.

“You’re not pretty enough to be a nurse, Sousa.”

“Spent too much time in one of those beds.” Sousa nodded at him. 

“If you two are done,” Carter interrupted, “can you tell us about what happened, Jack?”

“How long?” His voice cracked and the cough threatened to overwhelm him again. Sousa offered him the cup of water and he gratefully sipped, feeling the tightness in his chest slowly easing.

“Five days,” Carter was saying.

“Five – I’ve been out for five days?” He tried for anger, but the words came out embarrassingly weak and breathless.

“You were drugged up pretty well for the first three days,” Sousa said, “because they had to sew up that hole in your chest.” He handed Jack the cup again. “Coughing is good, no matter how badly it hurts. Keeps clots from forming and keeps you from developing pneumonia.” 

“Shit.” Obediently, Jack sipped a little more water. 

“Jack?” God, they were so predictable. There was Carter, all pent up energy, fired up and ready to head off on a mission to get whomever shot him, while Sousa fussed over him like a mother over a newborn.

“Yeah, right, what happened. I’m packing my bag when I get a call from your office, your receptionist telling me that Carter’s not coming back to New York right now, she wants to stay in LA and have a real vacation.” He didn’t miss the glance that shot between them, nor the slight blush on Carter’s cheeks. A year ago, he would have ridden the two of them hard, teasing-but-not-really and relishing every unsubtle joke, the destruction of her reputation as an agent, and Sousa’s too, as a nice by-product. A year ago, though, Carter would have been his target, his rival. 

Now? How the hell they thought they could have a relationship and still both work at the SSR, he had no idea; but he knew he would do what he could to assist. _Gotten soft, Thompson_ ; maybe he had, but he owed both of them too much.

He shook his head and tried to focus. Exhaustion was overwhelming him and his vision was going grey at the edges. He finished the last of the water, forced himself to finish his report.

“Knock at the door, right as I’m hanging up the phone. Figured it was the maid, wanting to clean my room. I put – file. Carter, the file.”

“File? Jack, what file?” 

“M Carter file…. Put in my bag, went to answer the door.”

He could hear Carter and Sousa discussing, talking over his bed, but he was too tired to follow their conversation. Bits of the conversation floated to him. 

His eyes closed. _God, so tired._

“…file?”

“… blackmail…”

“…forgery….”

“… nothing there…”

“Jack. Jack!” Carter’s voice cut through the fog in his brain. “Who shot you? Who did this?”

He thought back to that day. _Knock at the door, hang up the phone, cross to the door…._ “Jones. Hugh Jones.”


End file.
